Margaret Beaufort: The King's Mother

By Judith Arnopp

3^rd July 1509, Westminster Abbey - the body of a woman lies in state in the Abbey Refectory. The light of a thousand flickering candles falls upon nun-like clothing, hands clasped as if in prayer, a lined face testament to a life of battle, a life of uncertainty, a life of unflinching duty. This woman was the King’s mother …

Literature has not been kind to Margaret Beaufort. She was not a pretty woman, but she was pious, and she was resilient. It is not easy to turn a strong, plain woman into a romantic heroine and so, in fiction at least, she has become a harridan, a half-mad zealot. Feminists today celebrate the few medieval women who stepped from beneath the thumb of masculine authority but Margaret is seldom among them.

Due to their illegitimate roots, the Beauforts were barred from succession but that did not prevent them from becoming one of the most powerful families in England. From the day of her birth Margaret was a prominent player in the story of what we now know as the wars of the roses.

In the first year of her life Margaret’s father, out of favour with the king after a failed campaign in France, took his own life and Margaret was placed in the protection of the Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole. When she was six-years-old she was married to the Duke’s son, John, a boy of seven.

Shortly after this the Duke himself fell into trouble and was killed trying to flee the country. Margaret and John’s marriage was quickly dissolved. As the country deteriorated into civil war the king’s brothers, Edmund and Jasper Tudor, were given the wardship of Margaret. At the age of twelve she became the wife of Edmund, the Earl of Richmond. She followed him to Wales where Edmund battled on the king’s behalf against Gruffyd ap Nicolas. They made their home at Caldicot Castle and Lamphey Palace which Edmund used as a base for his military operations. It must have been an alien environment for Margaret so fresh from the nursery at her mother’s home at Bletsoe.

After winning back Carmarthen castle, Edmund fell into dispute with the Yorkist, William Herbert, who imprisoned him at Carmarthen. Edmund died there, either of wounds, or plague, or a combination of both. He left his twelve-year-old widow, Margaret, six months pregnant with his child.

Margaret, vulnerable and alone, turned to protection to her brother-in-law, Jasper, who took her to Pembroke castle. It was in his cold, lofty fortress that Margaret gave birth to her only child, a son, whom she named Henry after her cousin the king.

Within weeks of his birth Margaret had taken her life into her own hands and arranged, with Jasper’s assistance, to marry Henry Stafford, a younger son of the Duke of Buckingham. Henry remained in the care of Jasper but, when Edward IV won the throne, he was placed in the hands of William Herbert to be raised at Raglan Castle in Wales.

How Margaret must have felt at handing her beloved son into the custody of the man responsible for her husband’s death can only be surmised. Henry maintained his title of Richmond but his lands and properties went to the new king’s brother, George, Duke of Clarence. As soon as she was able Margaret began to campaign for the return of Henry’s birthright. Henry was well treated by the Herberts, and given a place almost as a family member. Margaret maintained good relations with Herbert and his wife, wrote to him often and visited Henry on several occasions.

In 1469, after the Battle of Edgecot, Herbert was executed by the rebel Warwick, and Jasper took back control of his nephew until the Lancastrian defeat at Tewkesbury when he and the boy took flight to France, ending up in Brittany. They rode away without saying goodbye, and Margaret was not to see her beloved son for fourteen years.

Margaret seems to have been happy with Henry Stafford who sought peace with Edward IV, winning positions at court. Their main residence was at Woking where they made several improvements to the palace but Henry Stafford was wounded at Barnet in 1471 fighting for York. He died shortly afterwards, never recovering from his injuries. Wasting no time, before the year of mourning was up Margaret again made a strategic match, marrying Thomas Stanley in 1472.

Stanley was a prominent member of Edward IV’s court who offered her the position she craved. She seems to have remained loyal to King Edward but, on the accession of Richard III in 1483, she began to plot against him. There is no evidence she had anything to do with the disappearance of the princes in the tower but she was behind a series of rebellions. After a failed attempt involving the young Duke of Buckingham, despite her clear involvement, Richard was merciful and placed her in the custody of her husband – where she continued to conspire against the king. Her machinations eventually paid off and with her help Henry and Jasper raised an army in France and landed at Milford Haven in 1485. The Battle at Bosworth marks the beginning of the end of the Wars of the Roses and, like it or not, on that day Margaret achieved her life’s ambition. Not only did she finally see the ultimate victory go to Lancaster but she witnessed her only son, Henry Tudor, crowned King of England.

An objective look at the Wars of the Roses reveals no saints, no sinners; each side was as much at fault as the other. It is clear to me that Henry VI and his queen, Margaret of Anjou, were ineffective and unsuitable rulers. I can understand the frustrations of the ambitious Duke of York. On the other hand it is also clear that Edward IV became a lazy king, too fond of his leisure and exasperating his most loyal brother, Richard of Gloucester. In the few short years he ruled Richard III showed promise as king, he may have made a decent job of it given the chance. It would be a different world today had the outcome at Bosworth been different.

Henry Tudor, a complete opposite of Edward IV, cared nothing for the favour of the people. He ruled as he saw fit, his decisions often dictated to by his experiences as an exile. He made tough, sensible decisions regardless of contemporary opinion. On his death the royal coffers were full, riches that were quickly depleted by his son Henry VIII who seems to have inherited the love of excess from his grandfather, Edward IV.

During his reign Henry Tudor was guided by his mother, a woman who never for one moment faltered in her support for him, and to listen to her was probably one of his best decisions. She was a woman to be reckoned with, a wise politician, and a formidable opponent. Henry owed her everything. When he died in 1509 the future of the Tudor dynasty rested with his son, Henry VIII, a virile, golden prince whom everybody loved.

Margaret died seven days after the coronation of her grandson, Henry VIII. She had taken a prominent part in the upbringing of all her grandchildren, perhaps finding some solace for only having given birth to one son. It seems that on the death of her son and the accession of her grandson, her job was done. She had lain down her life for the Tudor cause, worn herself out for her cause, and for England. It was time to go.

Margaret Beaufort was a diminutive, self-reliant, determined woman whose piety was outstanding even in the devout days of medieval England. Most historic female achievers are saluted today. We see them as early feminists, pioneers for modern women to emulate, but Margaret is seldom celebrated. In her day she was a hallowed figure (she made sure of that) but today she is tainted with ignominy. I can only think it is her lack of romance, her lack of prettiness, her lack of sexiness, yet Margaret was awesome!

During my research for The Beaufort Chronicles I have discovered a new respect for Margaret Beaufort; I salute her metamorphosis from pawn to the most powerful person in England beneath the king.

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Judith Arnopp is the author of eight historical novels, her latter work concentrating on the transitional years of the wars of the roses. She is currently working on The Beaufort Chronicles, charting the life of Margaret Beaufort. Book one: The Beaufort Bride is available now in paperback and on kindle. The Beaufort Woman coming soon.

The Beaufort Bride: Book one of The Beaufort Chronicles – out now

The Beaufort Woman: Book Two of The Beaufort Chronicles – pre-order now

The King’s Mother: Book Three of The Beaufort Chronicles – to follow.

The Beaufort Bride
The Beaufort Woman
A Song of Sixpence

The Winchester Goose

The Kiss of the Concubine

Intractable Heart

The Song of Heledd

The Forest Dwellers

Peaceweaver

mybook.to/thebeaufortbride

www.juditharnopp.com

author.to/juditharnooppbooks

 https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/3f/Tudor_Rose.svg

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/3/31/Margaret_Beaufort_2.jpg

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/9/9b/Henry_Seven_England.jpg

https://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/b/b3/Lady_Margaret_Beaufort_from_NPG.jpg

WILD FOODS - Historical Fiction Research

By Elaine Moxon

One of the things you swiftly learn, as a historical fiction author, is that you must become well read in a myriad of subjects. Many of these topics, to external eyes, may seem entirely disconnected with writing a novel. Little do they know, this knowledge is invaluable. Creating a historic and accurate landscape within which your characters can travel and interact is hard work.

I thought I’d share some research I’ve been doing for some travelling characters that may not always be able to pop into the local town for supplies. Living in the 5th Century AD as they do, and also wary of bumping into enemies, they have only what they brought with them for the journey, and what they find along the way.

From Saxon settlement, along ancient roadways, across rivers towards the coast, this is what they might discover.

DANDELION, publicdomainpictures.net

Woodland, Hedgerow, Roadside, Heath & Moorland

In scrubby woodland you’ll find young Elder buds for salads, and hazelnuts rich in protein, fats and minerals. The best dandelions are found on hedge banks and roadsides, and their young leaves are good in salads. Eat them in moderation, however. As suggested by their French name ‘pis-le-lit’ (or more politely, wet-the-bed) they are a diuretic and can have you running for the nearest facilities!

Blackberries ripen in August and are at their sweetest then. Also known as the ‘blessed bramble’ it was so called for the joy its fruit brought to areas where fruit was rare. Its leaves soothe burns and bruises, and a rich dye can be made from the berries, as can also be made from sloes. Sloe berries also make delicious wine, though I doubt my travelling companions have time for that.

Columbines love limestone woods and flower May-July. While most of the plant is poisonous, the 17th Century herbalist Nicholas Culpeper observed that ‘the seed taken in wine causeth a speedy delivery of women in childbirth’. Handy if any of your travelling party are in the later stages of child labour!

Pollen from the Common Mallow has been found in Roman remains in Britain, suggesting it was imported for medicinal purposes. Pliny the Elder declared a daily ‘spoonful of the mallows’ to be preventative of illnesses. A decoction of boiled leaves is said to calm fevers and a lotion of the same alleviates swellings. Mucilage of the roots of the variety known as ‘Marsh Mallow’ once provided a chewy filling to chocolate coated biscuits. Today it is somewhat rare and used only in toiletries and cosmetics.

Another ancient acquaintance is the Crocus, harvested since medieval times for the spice ‘saffron’. Although this doesn’t necessarily constitute a ready food source, I felt it worth a mention as an ingredient. Also within this realm is Lady’s Bedstraw or ‘Galium verum’, once used as a rennet in cheese-making. Thyme can flavour soups, stews, sauces and stuffing and is thought to prevent bad dreams. Ideal for travelling nobility with heavy weights on their minds.

Galium verum

Photo credit: bastus917 via VisualHunt / CC BY-SA 

Coastal

The obvious one here is seaweed, of which two types can be cooked as a spring vegetable - laver and caragon. You can also cook ‘Fat Hen’ and nettle leaves as you would spinach (but wear gloves when picking the latter!). Nettle leaves also make a refreshing drink. Molluscs such as cockles, mussels, and if in Cornwall, pilchards, all make tasty additions to a meal. At the end of summer, enjoy sweet chestnuts, eaten raw or even better roasted. Then in autumn, berries, nuts and fungi can be found, mostly in woodland, but field mushrooms are common in pastures and meadows (particularly where horses graze). Pick early in the morning and fry or add to soups.

By streams, fields and riverbanks you can find water-loving mint, watercress and wild garlic – all great for making soups. Wild garlic, also known as Ramsons, gives its name to several settlements in Britain known for the pervasive smell of this pretty flower, including Ramshope, Ramsbottom, Ramsey and Ramsholt. The name derives not from male sheep, but the Old English word ‘hrmsa’ meaning ‘wild garlic’!

Bogbean can be found in wet soil, mud and water – its bitter trifoliate leaves were used as infusions to alleviate scurvy and rheumatism. Laplanders used the powdered roots to bulk up the meal in their bread, though it leaves a bitter taste. Another lover of moist ground is Common Comfrey. All parts of the plant have a reputation for healing cuts and fractures and reducing swelling. Often going by the name ‘knitbone’, an infusion of the leaves in warm water gives relief to sprained wrists and ankles. My heroine in WULFSUNA uses a comfrey poultice beside a stream to alleviate swollen ankles.

Mentioned by the Greeks as early as the 1st Century AD, ‘seseli’ or as we know it Sweet Cicely, can be added to salads. Its fresh, sweet leaves counteract any bitterness or remove tartness when boiling fruit. With an aniseed flavour, it was used as an aphrodisiac in the 16th Century to ‘increaseth...lust and strength’ (John Gerard’s ‘Herball’).

Photo credit: col&tasha via Visualhunt.com / CC BY

Wild Animals

Some wild animals are predators to be cautious of, others may be sacred and some will be food sources. Wolves, foxes and badgers are main predators. Boar, while a ferocious beast particularly when breeding, makes a large meal, as do deer. Hares were considered sacred by some pagans and eating them was forbidden if not all of the time, then at least during certain symbolic festivals especially around springtime. Others believed them to be witches in animal form and were so avoided. Their later cousins, rabbits, are low in fat and good in a stew, though not widely available. Introduced by the Romans, they died out post-Empire and were not reintroduced until later centuries. Snakes and certain birds were also pagan symbols and so may have had a bearing on whether they were eaten. Poisonous snakes would be avoided for obvious reasons.

With an abundant array of salad leaves and stewing vegetables, my characters’ wild food table will be replete with tasty dishes to serve alongside freshly caught fish, berries and nuts, and maybe even a boar if they’re lucky. However, I must stress it is not suggested nor advised that you go munching on anything you find growing along the roadside. Some plants are highly poisonous. As Ben Law says, if you can’t identify them, ‘don’t eat them!’.

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BIBLIOGRAPHY

Farmhouse Cookery, Readers’ Digest

Wild flowers, Graham Murphy

The Woodland Way, Ben Law

Blood, betrayal and brotherhood.

An ancient saga is weaving their destiny.

A treacherous rival threatens their fate.

A Seer's magic may be all that can save them.

WULFSUNA

Elaine Moxon writes historical fiction as ‘E S Moxon’. Her debut Wulfsuna was published January 21st, 2015 and is the first in her Wolf Spear Saga series of Saxon adventures, where a Seer and one named ‘Wolf Spear’ are destined to meet. 

She is currently writing her second novel, set once again in the Dark Ages of 5th Century Britain. You can find out more about Book 2 from Elaine’s website where she has a video diary charting her writing progress. She also runs a blog. Elaine lives in the Midlands with her family and their chocolate Labrador.

Blank Tudor Faces

Judith Arnopp

 We have all become so familiar with royal Tudor images that we no longer really see them. One glance tells us who they are. We think we know them. They exude power, majesty and the iron fist of mastery.

Earlier portraits of the Plantagenet kings, and even the early portraits of Henry VII are very different to that of his son and grandchildren. But it was Henry VII, the first ‘Tudor’ king who began to develop the ‘Tudor’ brand.

The royal portraits of Henry VI, Edward IV, Richard III are all quite sombre, the artist doing his best to portray an ordinary man who was king. Even this portrait of Henry Tudor has nothing overtly regal about it; there is even a glimpse of personality, perhaps a measure of distrust, cynicism, impatience, or is it amusement? However you interpret his expression, it is a portrait of a human being, not a representation of royal supremacy.

 In the early days of Henry’s reign his position was unstable, he was an unknown quantity. There were no guarantees of peace and there were several Yorkist attempts to take his throne. The Tudors were the new kids on the block; nobody could foresee what sort of king Henry would make and his popularity depended very much on that of his wife, Elizabeth of York. Yorkist propaganda demeaned his claim to the throne, declaring that his mother’s line was illegitimate and that Lancaster had stolen the crown in 1399. They also sneered at his great grandfather who had been a lowly innkeeper.

Henry, realising he needed to reinforce his hold on the country, invented (or perhaps ‘embellished’ is a better word) his family history to create an impressive Tudor dynasty. He stressed the royal connection of his mother, Margaret Beaufort, and her descent from John of Gaunt and, to strengthen his claim further, he legally removed the stigma of bastardy from the family. He reiterated the royal descent of his grandmother, Katherine of Valois and, more surprisingly, claimed descent from the ancient Welsh King Cadwaladr, and King Arthur. To further cement his link to Arthur he named his first born son in his honour and embellished the round table at Winchester with the Tudor rose.

With the blood of both York and Lancaster flowing in the veins of his two sons and several daughters the Tudor line looked set to continue but Arthur’s sudden death in 1502 taught Henry that a king can never have too many sons. He lost no time in teaching his remaining son, later to become Henry VIII, the finer points of kingship. He stressed the importance of his role, the unreliability of the fickle populace, and the crucial need for strong male heirs to perpetuate the dynasty. The importance of heirs was a lesson young Henry never forgot, and one he fought tooth and nail for the rest of his life to achieve.

The blooming of the Renaissance and the introduction of men like Holbein to the royal court helped to reinforce this new Tudor image, and during Henry VIII’s reign new style of royal portraiture began.

I think of them as ‘power portraits’ that were loud declarations of Tudor permanence and dominance.

This one was painted by Holbein the younger after 1537, at a time when Henry was at the height of his power. He had freed himself from Anne Boleyn and the Pope, and Jane Seymour had finally provided the son and heir he’d been craving.

Today, we are used to seeing this image and others like it but imagine its impact in a world in which images were rare and people’s lives were not dominated by photographs or colour. Everything in this portrait is designed to impress; we cannot take our eyes from the breadth of shoulder; the sumptuous quality of his clothes; his immovable stance; the potent codpiece, and the unflinching expression in his eye. The portrait exudes wealth, power and uncompromising control. It is an unspoken declaration. ‘I am the king; it shall be as I say.’ There is not the slightest hint of insecurity, yet Henry was very insecure.

We all know about Henry; his failed marriages, his quest for an heir, his break with Rome, his megalomania, and ruthless rule but, what about the man behind the grandeur? Take a closer look at his face. What does it tell us about the inner man?

He looks bullish at first glance but on closer inspection you will see his eyes are blank, his expression closed. You might say he looks belligerent or mean but is that really what we are seeing, or is that a preconceived idea, because of what we already know? Personally, I think his inner feelings are obscured by my pre-knowledge but, if I try to wipe my mind and focus solely on his face, I see ennui, and sadness. As if he is hiding behind his own splendour.

All the Tudor monarchs have this same expression. The portraits as a whole are only concerned with an outward show of majesty, a declaration of authority. Edward VI was ten years old when he became king, a young skinny boy with a burgeoning ego that would soon match his father’s. Here he is carefully painted in a similar stance to Henry. He is well-padded and embellished in satin and fur, and a much smaller cod-piece than his father’s promises future virility and heirs to carry on the Tudor name. But again, it is the image of a king with an empty face. ‘I may be young,’ he is saying, ‘but do not underestimate me; I am my father’s son.’

Edward’s short reign was one of religious persecution as the Protestant king tried to terrorise his subjects into following his will. His premature death was greeted with relief by many Catholics for now it was the turn of the Protestants to be subjected to the will of Mary Tudor.

Unlike her father and brother, Mary is seated, but her portrait is no less authoritative. Her erect posture and uncompromising stare are enough to turn living flesh into stone but there is little to be read there; we cannot see beyond her steely gaze to the woman within.

Her attempts to reinstate the Catholic religion and wipe out the much newer Protestant religion resulted in the burnings and torture that earned her the posthumous name ‘Bloody Mary.’ But viewed more objectively, her personal sorrows were immeasurable. Mary had lived a sorry life; rejected by her father, disinherited from the succession, stripped of her title ‘princess’, separated from her mother, Katherine of Aragon, Mary channelled all her frustration and anger into her religion. Her devotion to God and the Catholic Church was matched only by her passion for her husband, the reluctant Philip of Spain, and her wish for a son to follow after her.

Her health was never good; there is some evidence that her menstrual cycle was erratic and she suffered both physically and mentally from a young age. In later years her failure to conceive, her phantom pregnancies and failing marriage compounded her misery until she died a painful death in 1558 leaving no heir. Mary, who had gone to extreme lengths to rid England of the new religion, was now forced to leave the realm in the hands of a Protestant queen, her sister Elizabeth.

Elizabeth was the greatest Tudor of them all and the one who exploited royal portraiture to the full. The queen was very aware of the power of image and iconography. Encouraged by her adviser, John Dee, her portraits became more and more extreme. In every image she is majestic and fabulously dressed, her tiny frame all but obliterated by satin, velvet, lace and jewels. In looks Elizabeth resembled her great grandmother, Margaret Beaufort and her grandfather, Henry VII but by nature she was very much like her father.

If her grandfather and father had coveted England and parts of Europe, Elizabeth's ambitious eye went further - to the New World. In the Armada painting below, her hand rests on a globe and, just in case the viewer should forget who wears it, the crown of England is just above. If you look closely, her famously long, white fingers are covering the Americas and behind her are commemorative paintings of the Spanish fleet being driven onto a rocky shore by a storm that became known as the 'Protestant Wind,' suggesting God's approval of England's victory over Catholic Spain. Elizabeth is proclaiming herself the saviour of her people; the mother of her expanding empire: a victorious, virgin queen, blessed by God.

These are the things the Tudors wanted the world to see and believe. Their private 'selves', their inner thoughts and feelings were none of our concern and so they turned their faces into masks - a blank page devoid of personality yet replete with majesty.

Although the Tudors are well-documented and easily accessible through portraits and records, writing about them is not easy. We know what they did and when they did it; we know the relationships they had, the political scene, the style of their clothing, the shade of their hair and eye colour but there are only the tiniest glimpses of their inner selves. In order to populate my novels with believable characters I have to mentally prise off their masks, strip off their rich finery, and try to reach inside their minds. What is left are people as ordinary as you and I. In their natural state it is easier to consider these icons of monarchy as human beings, and imagine the emotions that triggered their most bizarre behaviour.  Each Tudor monarch had hopes and fears (mostly of failure) and insecurity, and they had dreams too, and a vast self-disappointment that ate away at them all.

For all their power, all their wealth and status, they could not have or hold the things they most desired: fidelity and adulation.

Photographs in the public domain from Wikimedia Commons

Judith Arnopp is the author of eight historical fiction novels including:

The Beaufort Bride: Book one of The Beaufort Chronicles - Available to pre-order NOW

A Song of Sixpence: the story of Elizabeth of York and Perkin Warbeck

Intractable Heart: the story of Katheryn Parr

The Kiss of the Concubine: a story of Anne Boleyn

The Winchester Goose: at the court of Henry VIII

The Song of Heledd

The Forest Dwellers

Peaceweaver


For more information please visit the webpage

Author page: click here

or look for her on Facebook.

Winter Crone Legends

by Elaine Moxon

"She who hardens the ground with the frost and ice, which quickens the dormant seeds in the earth's womb."

'VISIONS OF THE CAILLEACH' - Sonia d'Este & David Rankine

'The Cailleach' by Michael Hickey

Winter is almost upon us, the solstice looming as the nights lengthen and daylight becomes a rare and precious thing. To our ancient ancestors we are in 'Geimredh', the dark half of the year. The sun takes his leave of us for more and more hours, our lives increasingly illuminated by the moon. Writing Dark Ages historical fiction, it is important that I know what this time means to my characters, both Britonic and Saxon. Both cultures contain legends of the Crone or Winter Hag, a goddess of good or evil who shapes the land and controls the very forces of nature. She has many guises and names, including:-

• Death Goddess
• Wise Woman
• Frau Holle/Hel
• Valkyrie
• Cailleach
• Lady of the Beasts
• Hag of the Mist
• Harsh Spirit of Winter
• Hag of the Mill-Dust

Geimredh begins at 'Samhuinn' (1st November), which for the Celts marked the beginning of a new year, a beginning shrouded in darkness, where they believed the veil between the living and dead was at its thinnest, thus allowing ease of communion between the worlds. Incidentally, burial chambers and stone circles are often oriented to the midwinter solstice, aligning those buried and the winter rituals performed within them to the Otherworld. It is also the time of the last harvest where the pagan Lord dies with the cutting of the last sheaf and begins his journey through the underworld, laid to rest in the womb of the Great Mother. It is therefore fitting that his matrimonial partner, the Lady or Goddess, takes the helm to guide her people until he is re-born in the spring. Then she will be the virgin maiden, awaiting her lover. If the harvest was good, this final sheaf was fashioned into a 'kern maiden', referencing the fruitful spring goddess. However, if the harvest was poor, it was fashioned into the guise of the Crone and no, one farmer would wish to keep it long in his house for it brought bad luck. Such was the fear of the Crone's power.

Even before man cultivated grains and modelled kern maidens, the Crone was still venerated and was a symbol of death. The elder tree is sacred to the autumn equinoxe for pagans to this day, but as far back as the Megalithic period it was present. Known as the 'tree of death', representations of elder leaves have been found carved onto funerary flints at Megalithic burial sites. There is also evidence of Welsh and Manx Celts planting elders on new graves. Winter continues to be a harsh time for many in our modern world. Death is never far away. The old or infirm, people or animals, can perish. For our ancestors, living so close to the land, tied by their dependency upon it, this was moreso. As in death, the world around them was bereft of light. Devoid of life, it must have seemed as though the Otherworld had taken over; the world of the Crone. In winter, fodder is scarce and our ancestors slaughtered weaker animals to save feed for the stronger beasts, and to feed themselves through the winter.

In such a barren landscape, any fruits borne during this time were considered sacred. Apples, a symbol of the sun and immortality, would be stored as long as possible. These remain in our modern psyche when we bob for apples at Hallowe'en, chew toffee apples or wassail our apple trees. When cut crossways an apple forms a 5-pointed star or 'pentacle' and this referred to the 5 sacred roles of the Lady or Goddess: birth, initiation, consummation, repose and death. Blackberries, with their growing cycle of green-red-black as the fruits turn, signifies the 3 stages of the goddess as maid-mother-crone and was sacred to the Celts. They also revered the hazelnut tree, as in autumn it produces flowers for beauty and fruit (nuts) for wisdom. Eating the nuts was said to impart knowledge and wisdom to those who ate them. Its association with water (the entrance to the Otherworld) made it a popular offering and has been found in lakes, wells and springs - once again the domain of female deities. This is further confirmed by 'Coll', the bardic number nine - hazel trees fruit after 9 years of growth. Nine is sacred to the aspect of the triple goddess (3 x 3 = 9). Finally, elder berries, indeed any berries remaining through winter, were deemed by the Druids to be a gift from the 'Earth Mother' or Crone and would be gathered to make ceremonial wines. In other rituals, married Celtic women would paint their naked bodies in woad to honour 'the veiled one'. Again, this is a reverence of the Winter Crone, She who controls the veil to the Otherworld, She who folds the elderly and 'tired children into her cloak of death to await another dawn'.

'White Wolf' courtesy of wallpapercave.com

The Crone can be found throughout many cultures in both a benevolent and malevolent form. You may recognise some of them!

"It is written that before the Norman invasion of England, Gyrth had a dream that a great witch stood on the island, opposing the King's fleet with a fork and trough. Tord dreamed that before the army of the people of the country was riding a huge witch-wife upon a wolf, and she tossed the invading soldiers into its mouth."

FROM BRANSTON'S DESCRIPTION OF A FAILED INVASION ATTEMPT BY HAROLD HARDRADA IN 1066 IN 'THE LAST GODS OF ENGLAND'.

Here we see resemblance to the Norse Valkyrie, Frau Holle or Hel - goddesses associated with death.

She rides through the sky on the back of a wolf, striking down signs of growth with her wand, spreading winter across the land. If she sees you, she will keep her mantle of snow over the land, so you must remain still.

"The man held the Druid wand first over his head and then over hers, at which she dropped down as if dead. He then mourned for her, dancing about her body to the changing music. Then he raised her left hand, touched it with the wand, and the hand came alive, and began to move up and down. The man became overjoyed and danced about. Next he would bring her other arm and her legs to life. Then he knelt over her, breathed into her mouth and touched her heart with the wand. She leapt up fully alive, and both danced joyously."

THE 'CAILLEACH AN DUDAIN' DANCE OR 'HAG OF THE MILL-DUST', APPROPRIATELY DANCED AT THE AUTUMN EQUINOXE, FROM THE ORDER OF BARDS, OVATES AND DRUIDS FOR 'ALBAN ELUED'.

Here we see 'the death of the fertile Mother of Life in the barren months that were to come and the promise of her resurrection in springtime'.

Other familiar representations of the Winter Crone are the Hag witches in Disney's 'Snow White' and 'Sleeping Beauty', where the aforementioned princesses are the spring-like maidens and the evil Crones their nemeses. We can also find similarities between the 'Snow Queen' in C. S. Lewis' 'The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe', who is reminiscent of Hans Christian Andersen's 'The Snow Queen'. Meanwhile, Queen Elsa of Disney's 'Frozen' provides us with a more benevolent Winter Witch. She holds swathe over the land that is plunged into an eternal winter, building a palace of ice and a giant, boulder-like creature. As Beowulf hunts Grendel's mother in her watery cave (another Crone legend), so Elsa is hunted. It takes her sister Anna, another representation of the spring goddess, to persuade Arundel's population their Snow Queen has a good heart and can, if she wants to, remove winter from the land.

'The Snow Queen' by Elena Ringo

In conclusion, we are never far from these legends. Despite the many years separating us from our Megalithic or Dark Age ancestors, the legends persist and continue to permeate our so-called 'modern' lives. In reality, we are closer to our forebears than we imagine!

BIBLIOGRAPHY:

'Pagan Feasts' - Anna Franklin & Sue Phillips

'Visions of the Cailleach' - Sonita d'Este & David Rankine

'Alban Elued' - Order of Bards, Ovates & Druids

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Elaine has always loved writing and history. When she decided to combine the two, she wrote her Dark Ages debut 'WULFSUNA', which was published in January 2015 through SilverWood Books. She enjoys baking, knitting and gardening and lives in the Midlands with her family and their mad Labrador. She is currently writing the second book in her ‘Wolf Spear Saga’ series.

Celebrating the 4th Anniversary of the EHFA Blog!

by Debra Brown

Thank you for joining us for this anniversary today, and of course, for joining us for the daily posts, many of you for four years now. At this writing, the little knights at the bottom of the blog have admitted nearly 685,000 unique visitors, and we appreciate every one of you who have brought us to our nearly 2,700,000 page views.

This year has seen many interesting topics. Did you miss:

(Probably) Charles, the Spare

The Spare Child of James I of England: a Tragedy in the Making by Linda Root?

Death by Quill, the Parliamentary Act of Attainder (another tragedy) by Beth von Staats, our not-so-much-Henry but equally fascinating 'lesser known Tudor matters' expert? or

Social Mobility in Medieval England by Helena P. Schrader?

(One author is a self-taught history buff, one is a diplomat in a far-away country, and another is a professional in another field. You can get acquainted with these authors in our Facebook group and find out which is which!)

Perhaps you knew all this history, but there are 362 other posts..... besides the ones from the years before.

And neatly packaged in one beautiful new book are 186 essays from the second year, Castles, Customs, and Kings: True Tales by English Historical Fiction Authors Volume II, to be released on September 30, 2015.

In 2013, we launched Volume I with a Castles themed blog hop. On the 30th of this year we will have a Customs themed hop. Come by and follow links to blogs that will discuss the sometimes laughable (now), sometimes strange (to us), and sometimes saddening customs of the British past.

Comments on Volume I included:

"I think this will appeal to people across the board.  It’ll make a perfect stocking filler for history buffs for Christmas.  It’s companionable to read with a variety of different subjects, writing styles and approaches to history and historical research and can be dipped in and out of at leisure." – Elizabeth Chadwick

"This is an  'I didn’t know that' book,  guaranteed to inspire and intrigue - you’ll find yourself absorbed in the fountain of knowledge penned by wordsmiths who have a passion for the past.” – Helen Hollick

"It's an amusing trot through British history and excellent bedtime reading.... It was literary comfort food – a recollection of childhood, warm and satisfying." – Tom Williams.

Volume I is available in print, digital formats, and audio book.

Our Most Popular Posts

Unfortunately, our Blogger statistics don't give us a breakdown on the most popular posts for one year. However, our all-time most popular posts include:

Seven Surprising Facts About Anne of Cleves by Nancy Bilyeau. Interestingly, we receive far more Google search hits asking about Anne of Cleves than any of our other fascinating topics. A hint to authors!

Little Ease and the Tower of London by Nancy Bilyeau. A torture post. Brrr.

Who Placed the Earliest Roman Footprint in Scotland? by Nancy Jardine. Certainly one to rouse curiosity.

And, curiouser and curiouser, even the author cannot explain the intense interest in this topic:
Stand And Deliver ... Your Tolls? The Rise and Fall of the Turnpikes by J.A. Beard. When it came out, I blamed the interest on the UK Olympics being held about that time. I thought perhaps people, in their concern about tangled traffic, were looking into such things. But no, the post continues to attract attention. If you can explain it, please do.

Our visitors? The largest numbers come from, in this order, the United States, the United Kingdom, Russia, Germany, France, Canada, Ukraine, Australia, Spain, and China. Thanks to you all, and if you are from another land, welcome!

I really want to thank those who promote the blog. There are a number who do so regularly, and many, too, who retweet or Google share for us on occasion.

Please stay with us for another wonderful year, and invite your history loving friends who have not yet cut across our path. We love to hear from you in the comments section of every post, and don't forget to join us on Facebook to share your thoughts there.

'Sacred Fire'

by E S Moxon

After publishing Wulfsuna, the first in my Wolf Spear Saga series, in January 2015 I took a break for a few months before embarking on the planning for my next book. Writing often sparks the necessity for research when we happen upon a circumstance and need more detail. However at other times research can spark ideas for writing. For this reason I enjoy researching for my novels, hoping to find something unusual that provides inspiration for part of the current work in progress. My research comes from many places: books on my shelves, libraries, reenactors and the World Wide Web. My gem of a find this time was an article entitled ‘St Anthony’s Fire’ courtesy of Pearson College, CA and a website called ‘iamshaman’ both from 2004.

Known as ‘Sacred Fire’ and ‘Invisible Fire’ the claviceps purpura fungus, or ‘ergot’, germinates on rye in warm, damp conditions but is dormant in severe cold. Growth is therefore more prevalent in a wet summer following a harsh winter. The fungus is poisonous and manifests in several ghastly forms:

• -          Gangrenous
• -          Convulsive
• -          Hallucinogenic

Each of these has particularly vulgar symptoms. For instance the gangrenous strain produces areas of the body that become numb to touch or pain, known in medieval times as ‘witch spots’. Vein and artery walls contract, stemming blood flow and limbs literally break off at the joints! If the central nervous system becomes infected the body is thrown into violent convulsive fits and twitches (the convulsive form) and the ergot component lycergic acid (also in LSD) gives the sufferer hallucinations.

As you can imagine, in medieval times the causes of these symptoms would have been beyond the comprehension of most and assumptions of witchcraft were attributed. Both the afflicted and those attempting to heal (family members or healers) were accused. The sick were either seen as witches themselves who were being punished by god for spell casting, or as the victims at the hands of others’ dark deeds. Other factors that did little to assuage these accusations were the illness of cattle and other animals (falling ill as a result of grazing on infected rye) and that ground infected rye turns red, blood being a further sign that witchcraft was involved.

Consequently, witch trials increased during outbreaks of ergot poisoning and many met their deaths unjustifiably, as a cause of the ergot fungus. As a writer of historical fiction, with elements of magic and fantasy running through my sagas, I could not help but be intrigued by this phenomenon that can exist today where humid, wet summers and poor grain storage create the right conditions. Unable to resist using this newly acquired information, it is now part of a plotline in my next novel!

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Elaine (E S Moxon) is currently writing Book 2 in her Wolf Spear Saga series. Her debut novel Wulfsuna is published by SilverWood Books and is also available from most retail outlets. You can find out more about E S Moxon and her novels from her website here

Historical Fiction Awards Given at the Historical Novel Society Conference

by Debra Brown

Besides a choice of Herb roasted Chicken Breast, Grilled Marinated Flat Iron Steak w/Geenchili-chimchurri sauce, or Portabella Mushroom Ravioli, and the company of novelists eager to meet after years of online friendships, the Saturday evening banquet at the 2015 Historical Novel Society Conference in Denver, Colorado, USA was the setting for the announcement of the winners of two awards.

The first presentation made was to the winner of the M.M. Bennetts Award for Historical Fiction. This first time award honors and memorializes Ms. Bennetts with the goal of making her exceptional work better known. Soon after publication of her novels May 1812 and Of Honest Fame, she became ill with what was to take her life. Her publisher turned the books back to her, and in promoting them on her own she became a friend to us here at the English Historical Fiction Authors blog. M.M. was an editor of our blog's anthology, Castles, Customs, and Kings: True Tales by English Historical Fiction Authors. The idea for an award began with another friend, Terry Kroenig, and we were able to carry it forward. Anna Belfrage presented the award to Greg Taylor for his novel, Lusitania R.E.X.! See Greg's biography. Other finalists were David Blixt and Steve Wiegenstein.

The final presentation was that of the HNS Indie Award 2015. Helen Hollick took on the role of Managing Editor of the HNS Indie Reviews. She had two main goals. First, she wanted to encourage an increase in the quality of Indie and Self-Published historical fiction. To do so the decision was made to review only novels that were properly formatted and presented with a cover design befitting a good book. Secondly, Helen set up an annual award for the best in Indie HistFic with the first accolades given in 2014 to the winner Virginia Cox for The Subtlest Soul and the runner up, A Gift For The Magus by Linda Proud.

Tonight Helen presented the 2015 Indie Awards to Anna Belfrage for Revenge & Retribution! The runners-up were the authors of A Day of Fire.

Congratulations to both winners as well as to all the finalists in both contests. Write on!